The Joker
by Jaded1971
Summary: Brittany is your typical, rebellious girl. When her friend tells her there's a new drifter in town, she wasn't so concerned. Until that boy changed her forever. Based on "The Joker" by the Steve Miller Band. Set in the 1960s.


Years have passed, but still when I go to my happy place I go to the perfect neighborhood with the houses that all look the same. All the people who lived there were, of course, perfect. One family stood out the most. All the neighbors talked when they saw them. I guess they were the perfect of the perfect. They were the Millers. You could find their house by simply finding the biggest house or the "perfect-est" lawn, or the perfectly red Ford Mustang. Mostly, you keep an eye out for the auburn-haired beauty. I guess then she was considered a rebel. That must've been what drew me to her. I still remember the first day I saw her. She wore her Thermo-Jac Skinny Bones bell bottoms with a wide belt with a huge belt buckle, a "boy-style" shirt, with tennis shoes. She kept her hair down and a headband pushed it out of her face.

~*1967*~

The hot summer sun beats down on me as I walk to my best friend's house, melting my ice cream cone fast. The boys stare at me as I pass. The girls look with envy. Even all the adults give me special attention. I guess you could say I run this neighborhood. I am a rebel. I was when I was little and I am now. I'll always be a rebel. My school skirt is a lot shorter than it should be, I wear pants whenever I want to, skip school, steal my dad's Ford Mustang, and my tops aren't always kept buttoned or very high up.

"Finally," I sighed, "CAITLYN, I'M HERE!" I shouted as I stomped up her stairs. Caitlyn was the shy type. She didn't do anything that stood out that much. If she could, she would blend into the walls like a chameleon.

"Oh, hi, Britt," she smiled at me. We talked normal, mindless chatter that all teen girls did. School, boys, clothes.

"So did you hear?" she questioned.

"Hear what?" I responded.

"There's a new boy in town. He's our age, but everyone is saying he's…different," she stated, looking at her hands.

"What do you mean different?"

"I don't know. All I know is he's coming to our school in the fall."

After that, the new drifter couldn't get out of my head. I wondered how he was different. In this small town, there's not that much mystery. Everyone knows everyone and their families and what they're doing at that point in time. I think I wasn't the only one thinking about the new boy.

~*FALL*~

The first day of school. The day every kid dreads. I trudged to school with Caitlyn in our school uniforms. There he was. The new boy. They weren't kidding about different. He was out of uniform. He wore a pair of patched up bell bottoms, a tie-dyed shirt, a wide belt with a peace sign belt buckle, he had beads around his neck, a pair of beaten up sandals, and his hair was as long as mine with a Pocahontas style headband in his hair. Everyone stared. There was something about him. Something that told me I should talk to him and something told me I shouldn't. He put my stomach in knots.

When I got home, my mother could tell there was something wrong.

"Hi, sweetie, how was your first day back?" she asked with a smile.

"Oh, y'know, same old, same old," I responded with little emotion.

"Tell me what's wrong," she demanded, in a motherly fashion.

"I'm just tired," I responded, dragging myself upstairs.

And that was that, I never spoke to him. We never made contact, but that all changed in 1969, my senior year. Everyone said hippies were a problem, but we didn't see much of that. That all changed that year. Anti-Vietnam marches and protests were growing in the area. I thought about joining a few times, but my father was extremely conservative. If I joined those "dirty hippies", I would be dead. I'll never forget the day I stopped caring.

~*~1969~*~

I went out of one of my afternoon classes to use the "bathroom". I started to sneak out of the front gates and when I landed, I landed on someone.

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" I froze when I saw it was him.

"No worries. I'm fine." He stood and gave me a smile.

I smiled. "Why are you sneaking out?"

"Peace rally." He responded.

We stayed silent for a while.

"Can I join you?" I asked slowly.

"The more the merrier!" he exclaimed with a wide grin.

I walked with the new guy. It turns out his name is Alvin Seville. He moved to town after his dad and his brother was drafted into the war. I was shocked at what I saw when we got to the rally. There were people all over, chanting loudly, singing songs, and holding up signs. Alvin quickly joined in the action and invited me over. Alvin's compelling power drew me over as fast as he waved me over.

"NO, NO WE WON'T GO! NO, NO WE WON'T GO! NO, NO!" The cheer roared through the crowd.

The speaker took the stage. He spoke so strongly and loudly, it was almost like a scream.

"VIETNAM IS NOT OUR WAR! WE WON'T GO!" He raised his draft card in the air and burned it. The chanting started again.

"NO, NO WE WON'T GO! NO, NO WE WON'T GO! NO, NO!"

The air filled with burning draft cards. My eyes were wide with wonder. To you, it may not seem like that big of a deal, but then that was huge. It took guts. A woman handed out flowers. Some people wove them into their hair. Alvin wove his in and helped me. Eventually, I let loose. I screamed over everyone. I felt the intensity. I felt the adrenaline. It made my heart pound and my head swirl. That was the day I knew who I wanted to be. I found myself. In the distance, soldiers started to march toward us. Everyone surrounded to block them, still chanting their chant. Then, a new chant began.

"WE'RE NOT AGAINST THE SOLDIERS, WE'RE AGAINST THE WAR!"

As soon as the first person started it, everyone repeated it, like a group of parrots. Alvin approached differently. He spoke softly.

"We mean you no harm," he whispered to a soldier.

"We want peace." He stuck a flower into the barrel of the gun.


End file.
